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Summary
Ford ran a finger along his perimeter. He shivered. The gentle touch was more than welcome, even as confusing as it was to his tender psyche. It took a few seconds for his brain to process his ability to breathe normally. His gasps evened into calming breaths.
“I have every right to destroy you,” said Ford.
Bill tried to vocalize his agreement, only mustering a single meaningless syllable. He couldn't hear it over his screaming wound.
“You're fed. You sleep. When I could easily trap you like the vermin you are. Throw the key overboard. You could be in a lockbox at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, and I've opened my home to you. What do you have to repay me?” His finger arrived back at the angle he'd started.
“Nothing,” Bill mumbled, voice thick, saliva thicker.
OR: "I went to The Theraprism and all I got was this stupid sexual complex"